Page 88 of First Light

“He learned that from me.” The corner of Duncan’s mouth turned up. “They don’t have the same instruments here as we do at home. I taught him the basics when we were young, but he’s a far better player than I ever was.”

The young man came back to the table, holding a harp that was small enough to fit on the player’s knees. Lachlan walked out from behind the table and down the stairs, settling himself next to Naida, who leaned toward him and whispered something. Lachlan gave aslight nod, and the woman waved a gentle hand over Lachlan’s throat, then another hand over his harp.

“What was that?”

“Lachlan has some magic in his voice,” Cadell said, “but Naida’s power is greater than his. It will amplify his voice since the hall is so large.”

Carys nodded. “Right.”

Lachlan cleared his throat and took a sip from the goblet his servant held out. “A song for our guests tonight.” Though his words included the Cymric court, his eyes landed on her and didn’t leave as he began to pluck the harp, drawing a flood of melody from the gold-inlaid wooden frame.

Duncan leaned toward Carys. “There are many kinds of magic that humans practice in the Shadowlands. This is Lachlan’s kind.”

He plucked the strings with such skill and speed Carys forgot where she was and that others surrounded her. All she could do was watch Lachlan as he filled the hall with his harp and his voice. All murmur of conversation stopped, and the lights around the hall seemed to dim.

As Lachlan started to sing in Gaelic, there were soft gasps around the hall. Whether it was Naida’s magic or his own, Lachlan’s voice sounded like it was coming from right next to her.

For a moment, Carys was at the pub in Baywood, listening to Lachlan entertain her friends with folk songs and holding the small crowd enraptured. Carys had felt as if he was singing just for her when he lifted his eyes from the guitar and smiled across the room.

She had no idea what he was singing to the audience in the great hall, but there were tears in more than one eye. And just like that night in the pub, the entire time he sang, he looked straight at her, his gaze never wavering.

His voice was a seductive whisper in her ear. The pure deep tone of his song curled around her, threading through the air that touched her neck, his breath a feather across her lips, the vibration of the harp echoing through her body.

He sings for you.Cadell’s voice in her mind.

“Only for me?” she whispered.

For you, Nêrys. Seren didn’t have patience for music.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Until she had to. The song finished, the magic drifted away, and the crowd applauded. They rose to their feet to praise the magical young lord, and in the tumult of the crowded hall with everyone vying for Lachlan’s attention, Carys slipped away.

She was dressedin her nightclothes, staring at the burning fire in the hearth and wrapped in heavy wool blankets when she heard the knock at the door. She could feel Cadell overhead, curled in dragon form and resting on the roof of the tower when she rose and walked to the door.

Nêrys?

“It’s probably Bonnie,” she said. “Or Duncan trying to get me to eat more.”

It is not.Cadell’s voice drifted away.I will leave you to your privacy, my lady. All you need do is call.

Carys frowned as she opened the door, only for understanding to ring clear when she saw Lachlan on the other side.

His jacket was loose, and his shirt was untucked, wine spilled over the collar. His eyes were locked on her face. “You left.”

“It was crowded. You know I hate crowds.”

“Yes.”

Tension rocketed between them, and she glanced at his hands, feeling his fingers on her skin the same way he’d caressed the harp at the front of the hall, wrenching the aching music from its body the same way he’d once touched her.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, Carys.”

It was too much. She pulled him into the room, wrapped her arms around him, and lifted her head to meet his lips as he kicked the door closed.

His hands, his hands, his hands were everywhere, fisted in the heavy cloth that covered her, ripping away the blanket around her waist and gripping her hair at the nape. He tugged her braid loose and spread the dark waves over her shoulders, a groan catching in his throat as he walked her back toward the bed.

“I missed you.” His voice was hoarse. “I missed you so much.”

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